


High Places

by Veilrony



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Also lots of OCs, Fanclans, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veilrony/pseuds/Veilrony
Summary: StoneClan lives in ancient ruins, prowling across the flat, destroyed city. Their paws are hard, and their wills are even harder. They have to be this way, because prey is hard to come by when there’s no way to hide yourself from it.LedgeClan lives at the base of a cliff at the edge of StoneClan’s territory. They revere StoneClan and believe them to be StarClan warriors. They believe that “StarClan” gives them their plentiful prey and warm days.StoneClan doesn’t even know these cats exist.





	High Places

The flat StoneClan lands were shrouded in thick, stormy clouds. Usually, on their treeless hilltop, they were cascaded with bright sunlight, scorching the strangely-shaped rocks the Elders basked on. Now, stormy clouds covered the sun, taking away nearly all the heat in the camp.

Reedpaw was forced to try and appease the elders in other ways, including giving them nearly twice the food they usually ate. Well, if that’s what they needed to calm down, by StarClan he was going to do it. Beside him, his mentor Firfoot was sniffing the air. She then gave Reedpaw a sideglance.

He should probably be doing the same.

Rather, he decided to use his ears to look for whatever prey the elders wanted. There were no clicks of nails on stone, no scuffling as ivy leaves were climbed. Finally, Reedpaw laid down, digging his nose between his paws. “There’s no use,” he said.

“Quiet,” Firfoot hissed beneath her breath.

Fine. “There’s no use,” he whispered. “I can’t hear anything. They’re probably in their dens trying to warm up.” He shivered beneath his thin pelt. “Like we should be doing.”

“No, this is valuable training.” She slunk off the rock she was perched on and went into a cold smooth tunnel.

“For what?” he wailed, louder than he should have.

“Hush.” She narrowed her green eyes. “For patience. You’ll need it this leafbare.”

It was greenleaf! He followed her down the metal tunnel, tail lashing. “That can wait. I’m tired.”

To that, Firfoot purred. “It’s not even sunhigh yet.”

“How’d you know? The sun’s not even out!”

The metal tunnel took an upward turn, so the two of them padded up it. Reedpaw shook ancient mud off his paws.

“You’ve got much to learn, Reedpaw. And I hear what you’ve been muttering this whole time. Yes, the elders don’t need this much food, but until you shut up, we won’t catch anything!” To that her tortoiseshell pelt bristled. Reedpaw blinked and nodded. He lowered his head, trying not to meet her glowing gaze.

They got to the surface, walking through the ruins of an ancient StarClan camp. Reedpaw glanced around, marvelling at how huge it was. Some of the stone was put into huge spires that reached as tall as a tree. Most of the stone structures looked like dens. Their roofs had crumbled, covering the dirt. Dust was everywhere. “Why did StarClan leave?” he asked, thinking of stories that the elders told him as a kit. “Why did we move camp here?”

Firfoot didn’t answer, ears twitching.

Reedpaw sniffed the air, smelling the almost pungent scent of a pigeon. He looked up to see one fluttering down onto a rock. He bounded ahead, hoping it wasn’t looking at him. The wind was blwoing the bird’s scent here, so he wasn’t in danger of it smelling him. He looked for smooth spots along the pebbled roads where his paws wouldn’t send a tiny rock skittering. His paws were tough from walking on stone all his life, so stepping on pebbles didn’t get him. He threw himself into a silent sprint.

The bird clearly didn’t hear him, as it started ruffling its feathers, sticking its beak into its wings. Reedpaw’s eyes narrowed as he leaped onto the rock.

Now, the bird saw him. It tried to flap away, but he snapped it up in its jaws. It still tried futtering away, but Reedpaw bit its wing, hard. He let the bird go, rebalancing itself. The bird couldn’t fly away so he pounced on the bird and killed it cleanly.

Firfoot grinned. “Great, Reedpaw! You might want to run faster next time. And aim for the neck on the first jump! She ran over, the brown tortoiseshell getting a good look at the bird.

She probably couldn’t look at it too well, as Reedpaw held it in his jaws. He tried to smile through the feathers, but it didn’t work. Blood streamed onto his chin, making his mouth water. “Now can we go back to camp?” he said through the feathery muffler.

“Why not,” she said. “But first, we should check the border.” She cocked her head, turning around.

“Okay.”

Firfoot walked with a dignified glide. Reedpaw trotted alongside her, the kill cooling down with the weather. Soon, Ravenpaw grew bored of the catch in his mouth, but couldn’t let it down.

He looked down. On one side of him was the territory. On his other side was a cliff. Along its side trees grew up, but they were thin enough that a kit couldn’t even climb it. The further down it went, the white sand turned into black soil, until even that was covered by massive trees with moss and vines hanging from them. Nothing could climb this cliff. It gave Reedpaw a sense of security. “Why do we check this border?” he asked through the fat pigeon in his mouth.

“What?” Firfoot asked.

“Why do we check this border?” he asked. “I mean, nothing could climb this cliff. It’s safe.”

Firfoot thought for a while. “You know, I have no idea. Maybe so we can check if anyone needs help down there.”

The cliff rounded out until it was just a steep hill. This was the end of StoneClan territory.

Firfoot smiled. “Looks like everything’s safe. We should head back to camp before this storm rolls in. Whaddya think?”

Reedpaw glance dup at her, smiling through the pigeon. “Let’s go!” he said, then started running back to camp. He looked back to see Firfoot sigh loudly and then follow behind.

* * *

Through a single gap in the LedgeClan canopy, Rosekit stared at the Highcliff in awe. How… how did she see that? Did Beebite see that? She stared at her father, open-jawed. He too seemed dumbfounded, before staring down at Rosekit and laughing. “This is amazing!” he boomed before taking her in his jaws and running. “We have to tell your mother!”

Rosekit dangled by her scruff as they ran down the hill. Beebite kept on laughing through his teeth.

Rosekit couldn’t believe it. If she couldn’t believe it, how would the rest of the Clan?

Beebite leaped over gaps before sliding down hill. Rosekit was terrified he’d let go, but he didn’t.

Soon, they got to the bottom of the hill, where the camp was. It was the flattest part in all LedgeClan territory.

Beebite stopped and let her down, flattening her neck fur and licking her over the forehead. “Hey, don’t worry,” he said. “You’re six moons old now.”

Rosekit twisted, her rosy blonde fur bristling. “But I saw—“

“Calm down. Come on, let’s go.” Beebite took huge strides, which Rosekit had to make four to count for each step.

As soon as they got into the bramble-walled camp, every warrior, queen and kit swarmed them. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, though!

“How’d it go?” the clan leader, Brightstar, asked. He usually looked serious, now he seemed almost worried.

Rosekit turned back to Beebite, tail drooped at the sight of the clan wanting to see how she did. He smiled and nodded to her. So… she should say it? She did, trying her hardest to seem brave by puffing her tail out. “We saw StarClan warriors!”

* * *

When Reedpaw got back to camp, it appeared that everyone was either asleep or hunting.

He glanced back at Firfoot, who just crawled into her den soundlessly. He sighed, going to the centre of camp and dropping his catch onto it. It was actually fairly full, so he just picked the pigeon back up and took it to the elders. They were sleeping, except for his grandfather, Duskfoot. He nodded at the sight of Reedpaw, but didn’t say anything. Instead, the ex-deputy motioned to the rest of the clan and put his paw in front of his mouth.

“I brought you a pigeon,” Reedpaw said, dropping it at Duskfoot’s feet.

Duskfoot leaned over and took a bite, nodding his thanks at Reedpaw.

He smiled, sitting down. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch any more,” he said finally. “You guys deserve more, right?”

Duskfoot stiffened, looking up from his meal. His amber eyes stared at Reedpaw, then their focus faded away. When it returned, he shook his head slowly and went back to eating. What did that mean?

Reedpaw laid down, making eye contact with his grandfather. “You guys are old and have served the clan for moons upon moon,” he ended up reciting. “You’re the backbone of this clan?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing except a raspy tone came out. He curled his lip and nodded. Then, he turned around and stalked to the back of the cave. He took the pigeon with him.

Reedpaw stared, dumbfounded, into the darkness of the elders’ den. What was Duskfoot’s problem? He frowned. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered, before twisting around himself and leaving the den.

 

 


End file.
